Death is Certain, its Hour Unknown
by DragonMaster65
Summary: AU where Aang didn't meet the Lion Turtle. Struggling with his choices, he makes the decision to approach Ozai alone to fulfill his destiny as the Avatar. [Pro-Bending Circuit] [Oneshot]


**A/N: Here is my last submission for Season 5 of the Pro Bending Circuit. I recommend that you read through Writer1001's piece first. It's called The Grey Beach. Links are tough to do here, but it's "/** **s/12797606" (you can copy-paste any story link and just replace after the s with those numbers. God, FF needs a "related story" feature...).**

 **The other two alternative pieces are Tonberrys' ours is a righteous fury (which echoes hollow through the years) (** **/s/12798462)** **and raggazzed12's Her Name Was (** **/s/12662895/3/).**

 **If you choose not to, or can't find Luke's piece, our setting is essentially looking at how the finale would have been different assuming Aang didn't meet the Lion Turtle and instead only had a few other choices to make.**

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 **Pro-Bending bookkeeping::**

 **Theme: Butterfly Effect Part B: A character makes a choice & the consequences play out**

 **No bonuses used.**

 **Waterbender, White Falls Wolfbats**

 **Word Count: 1280**

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 **Death is Certain, its Hour Unknown**

"We're not going to catch up to him in time," Sokka cried. They hadn't arrived at the airship launch in time, barely capturing the ship they were on by the skin of their teeth. Now, with Ozai so close to their grasp and yet so far away, it seemed fate would be cruel just this one time more.

"No, we're not," Suki sighed.

Aang turned from the bridge and ran. Involving any of his close friends would only deepen the pit that yawned wide in his gut. They had their tasks and he had his. Bursting onto the roof and spinning his glider open, he streamed down to the burnt-away forest, down to where there was nothing but death.

In a way, he'd always known it would go down this way. Once he'd returned from his trip with Zuko and truly understood firebending, the inevitability of his role had set in.

His friends were powerful benders and warriors, but their destinies were not the Avatar's. He couldn't see where their paths would lead with any clarity. Zuko would fight for the Fire Nation, Katara and Sokka for the Water Tribes, Toph for… well maybe not the Earth Kingdom but for equality, Suki for much the same...

Aang broke from that train of thought. He couldn't worry about their futures. His attention had to stay on task. His glider folded back into place, and he twisted in practiced, controlled motions to draw up stone and earth from under the ash. Each disk was launched, full force, into the air to cut down the flagship.

Aang only hoped that those on board would be able to abandon ship before being caught in the slow, yawning crash of the disabled ship. The jet of fire from the front of the nose of the ship cut off suddenly and Aang knew, somehow, that he'd captured Ozai's attention.

The world took on a languid, dreamlike quality. Ozai flew - _flew_ \- on jets of fire to land by the Avatar and even that did not phase him. Fate was in charge now, guiding his offer of peace, his defensive motions, his offensive strikes.

Time slowed and yet raced along, like the movement of a choked river. Individual seconds flew by and the entire duel dragged on, unable to conclude. Destiny was in charge now. A feeling of understanding like no other came with the realization as Aang sank into the Avatar State.

This was as things were always intended to be. The guidance of his past lives saw easily through Ozai's movements, coaxing him to step here, bend there. Now Aang himself passed out of time and watched his past lives. However his heart broke, bewildered as he saw himself about to make one final strike to end things, to fulfill what he had mistakenly believed was fate and not cold-hearted vengeance against a tyrant.

"No!" Aang cried, wrenching control back. He backpedaled away from the fallen king, his hands shaking. He hadn't meant to try and kill the man. He wanted peace, wanted another option, another way.

Ozai twisted to stand, dragging his foot around. Too late, Aang recognized the flare of fire trailing behind his heel. Too late, Aang discovered the end of his path.

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Finally, the Avatar was defeated. Ozai laughed. He now knew why his weak, traitorous son could never have fulfilled his destiny of capturing the Avatar. His mystical ascension to channel his past lives had nearly bested even Ozai. However, power was useless if you were afraid to use it. The Avatar's foolish mercy had been his downfall and would doom the entire resistance.

Leaving the boy's body to burn with the remains of the forest, Ozai raced to rejoin his troops. Sozin's Comet still soared brightly, a portent of the inevitability of his reign as Phoenix King. It hung as though fixed in the sky, constant. The texts had not details for how long it would soar, but Ozai knew in his bones it would remain until his power was absolute.

That was, until his flame-fueled flight brought him to a field of death and destruction of all the wrong making. His airships, the final lynchpin to his domination, had been swept from the air. Their iron bellies belched noxious fumes and fire, goaded by the very comet meant to make the ships unstoppable, smoldered even along steel beams.

Chaos reigned among the surviving troops. Ozai could only watch over the scene for scant minutes before wrangling the remaining officers to his side. "Gather those who are able bodied. Leave the rest," he spat. The dead and dying could burn on their own in the pyre.

"We can't just leave them behind," one of the commanders protested. His eyes were haunted, hollow. Ozai shoved the man aside. He couldn't see past his own losses to the still-burning promise for the future above them. The loyal ones - the men and women who were willing to still march on - those were the ones who would bring his empire to fruition. Cowardice would only lead to its destruction.

Even after culling the weak, Ozai's forces rallied around him. He prepared to begin their march anew until one brought a messenger hawk to him. Ashen-faced, the soldier disappeared back into the fold rather than remain. Ozai read the scroll, his face warping into a snarl.

His twice-departed son had emerged from hiding to rise against him. If only Ozai had not spared him when Azula brought him home. If only Zuko had had the spine to follow through with capturing the Avatar. If only, if only, if only. Ozai was consumed by the alternatives. They would do him no good. He needed to focus on the present, the here-and-now.

"Orders, sir?" one of the commanders pressed. They were on a precipice now. The scarlet light from the comet mocked Ozai, taunting him as it began to fade. The time had passed. They wouldn't be able to march fast enough to accomplish his intended plans to raze the final Earth Kingdom resistance.

Ozai clenched his fist, burning the frantically-written missive. "Retreat." He spat the word, refusing to allow it to poison his tongue. This would not be his final move.

The usurper child would sit on his throne in the Fire Kingdom. Command his people. Steal from his royal coffers. Ozai found himself forced into the shadows, his power reduced to a stronghold seized by his remaining troops and under-the-table promises of support by the remaining nobility on his side.

He had lost Ba Sing Se to his brother's forces. Yet again betrayed by family. Only Azula had remained loyal, and she was useless to him now. It seemed Ozai was destined to take back his power on his own and for himself alone.

It may take years he now realized, but he refused to abandon his set path. He would not yield to the pressures of the world that should have laid itself at his feet instead. Sozin's Comet had passed, yes, and he was now at war with his own countrymen. But loyalties changed quicker than the tides and his son was untested on both fronts that Ozai now challenged him on. Politicians would go where there could be profit and control given. Soldiers would not die for a usurper.

For now, Ozai would bide his time and regroup. After all, he still had years before the next Avatar could challenge him. Before then, though, he would avoid the mistakes he had this time. Gathering a group of veteran warriors, he sent them out with a task.

"Bring me the Avatar. Alive and unharmed."

No, he would not make the same mistake twice.

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 **A/N: Thanks again to my absolutely _stellar_ teammates this season! And, as always, check out the other event fics and root for the Wolfbats ;D**


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